Enamored
by x.Chromophobia.x
Summary: Enamored. To fill or inflame with love; to charm or captivate. I never realized that a simple coincidence could change everything. That a mere exchange could have such an impact on a person. The correlation was smoldering- and I was impossibly frightened.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: **Hälsningar! Wow, I never expected school to be so troublesome this year 'round. Well, I know that the story alert might be going off, but this is not a new chapter. I have completely re-written this story. Why? I felt that it was going nowhere In fact, I was thinking about not continuing this, but I know how annoying that is. So, I decided to re-write it. I am really sorry if you liked the older one better. I think that this one will be better than the first copy. Also, the plot is the same, just the story is more descriptive, and the title suits the story amazingly.

Love it or hate it? Just remember to review it.

**Enamored**

**Chapter One**

_Beep, Beep, Be-ep._

The alarm clock rang out loudly, breaking the peaceful morning silence. I pushed the covers away from my body, shivering at the air-conditioned chill in the air. Mornings were never my favorite time of the day, but with a smug mood, I realized that this week would be the last week that I would have to deal with. On Friday, it would be the last morning that I would have to wake up and go to school. That, even if a completely unorganized accusation, was enough to make me wake up slightly.

This week was the very last week of high school for me. I was finally graduating from the one place I hated. Of course, I would miss my friends dearly, high school was the only thing keeping my in Dallas, Texas. The moment that passed, and I got enough money, I would be gone. I honestly could not wait to go somewhere bigger than Texas. I wanted to become a "city girl".

Dallas was very pretty, especially in the morning, I just wanted to be near more people. People who didn't know, or could care less, about you. Where in Texas, everyone knew everything and the only privacy you could every wish to get, was in your own bedroom. Everyone talked about every body and everyone hated everyone body. Texas had way too much drama for me.

"Are you up yet, Aubrey?".

My foster mother called.

I looked over at my slightly ajar door. "Yeah. I am."

Sighing loudly, I pulled on a pair of faded jeans, a white shirt, and a hoodie. I guess the good thing about Dallas High School was that the school board felt that we didn't need to wear a uniform. That may have had something to do with the poverty hitting our school and the shops around Dallas. Which really didn't make any sense to anyone. If you needed money, why decide not to enforce a rule that would make everyone need to pay?

Shrugging at my own thought, I slipped my red hair into a lose tie before pulling my red hat on. Taking a moment, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was pretty average. Well, I was _really _average. Underneath my eyes was covered in freckles, I had hazel eyes that were almost gold. My hair was a terribly limp red. I wasn't too thin, but I wasn't too big either. Comparing me to the average Dallas teenager, I would look completely out of place.

Slightly tanned skin that was too light for the strong rays of the sun, smaller build and absolutely no curves. My eyes looked dead without a thin layer of eye shadow or eyeliner. Where as, the other girls had curves since they were in grade five, perfectly sun kissed skin, eyes that just shone brightly even without make up.

I didn't hate myself, though. I would just trade myself in for anyone else in my class any day.

Giving up on my reflection and my terrible morning self-hate, I lifted my bag onto my shoulder. I gave myself one last look before turning on my heel and walking out of my room.

My foster mother, Sara-Mae, was sitting at the table sipping on her coffee. "Hey, Aubrey."

I smiled, "hey, Sara-Mae."

Sara-Mae was this beautiful woman who could put a supermodel to shame. She had platinum blond hair with big, bright blue eyes, and so many curves. She was the poster-woman for beauty and everyone knew it. They also knew that she took me in. Although, it wasn't that difficult to figure out.

"Mm." Sara-Mae began. "Your graduation pictures just came in."

I nodded to myself.

I don't think I remembered to smile in those pictures.

"Oh, that's great."

I was so socially awkward that I pitied myself. I hated public speaking, I hated group activities, and I really hated talking to people when I knew that the conversation was going no where. I didn't really like to start conversations with people so I didn't generally talk to many people at my school. It was completely fine with me, because I would rather just get over the pleasantries of high school, graduate and be done with it, rather than making friends who would ultimately just laugh at my "big city" dreams.

I did make a few friends, though. Those friend were the complete opposite of me in every aspect. From appearance to personality. It shocked me to even begin to think of how we started talking or even began to like each other.

I smiled to myself.

Mary Laraine was a quiet eleventh grader who some how tagged a long with us. Although we are all older than her, maturity wise, she was older. Mary was into books, and bugs. She wanted to become a Neurologist when she grew up. Like me, Mary wanted to move away from Dallas and the state of Texas all together.

Kimberly-Anne Jacobs was the type of girl who everyone wanted to be and all the guys wanted to have. She was the picture perfect girl who had everything and wanted nothing. All stereo-types aside, contrary to the beliefs of the "popular" people, she wasn't vain or self-conceited at all.

Ansley Haywood was the eccentric one who would much rather skip down the halls than walk. He liked guys and got made fun of a lot, but he says that he doesn't even care- that hiding his sexuality was more painful than the physical pain. Of course, as different as we were, Ansley was really the only one who I could call my best friend.

"You know, your going to be late."

I looked at Sara-Mae. "What?", I asked.

Sara-Mae smiled to herself. "Your going to be late."

"Oh!".

I grabbed my lunch off the table in my rush to the door. "Bye."

I slipped on my shoes in a hurry, deciding that tying them would only waste time. Sara-Mae yelled something about not being here after school, laughing to herself.

Naturally she would think that me, who had never missed a day of school in my life -aside from the major sick days-, being late for the bus would be highly amusing. I opened the door, and sprinted to the corner of my street. I could already see the large, yellow, school bus pulling up near my stop.

I absolutely _hated _mornings.

.::.

I just nearly missed my bus this morning and I was late for class. My first Period teacher, Mrs. Vanderpoel, made me go all the way to the office to get a slip. I didn't get that rule. I was only a little late. Shouldn't they just be grateful that I came at all? I gave my teacher the slip, and went to my desk sluggishly.

My first period was 'Social Skills'. Which was a huge class that I had to take to become a lawyer. Most of my other classes I wouldn't need until I went into Collage or a Law School, depending on what I would be able to afford. Although, I estimated that if I started saving up, I might be able to buy a law book.

Kimberly-Anne smiled at me as I sat down next to her. I gave her a small smile back. Kimberly-Anne was the strawberry blond that everyone wanted to talk to. She was every teacher's favorite student, and everyones favorite friend. Kimberly-Anne was tall, blond, and blue-eyed. She was the stereo-typical 'popular chick' if there ever was one. I felt so ordinary sitting next to her.

Contrary to the 'popular beliefs', Kimberly-Anne was the nicest person I ever met.

"I thought you weren't gonna show."

I shrugged, dropping my bag behind my chair. "I was _almost _late, but I managed to get here."

Kimberly-Anne chuckled, "good. 'Cause then I would have to present our social economic project all alone and then you wouldn't have gotten a mark. You would have failed and then dropped out of school...".

I was only half aware of where this conversation was actually headed. I was pretty sure that it was going to end with Kimberly-Anne stressing over something that is not based on any actual facts. I pulled out my note book that had all of the information about Travis, County in Texas, and scribbled aimlessly on the cover of my book.

I was only vaguely aware of Kimberly-Anne tapping my shoulder impatiently. Sighing deeply, I turned to her, dropping my pen on my desk. I arched an eye brow "Yes?".

"So... Did you hear?", she asked, her early worrying replaced with a curious expression.

I shook my head, "no. Heard of what?".

"Well." She began.

The teacher cleared her throat. "Miss. Hewitt. I suggest you pay attention."

I gave her a nod. "I was asking to use a...hi-lighter."

The teacher nod disbelievingly as she went back to explaining population.

"Ashton Stanford is having a party. I think he wants you to go." Kimberly-Anne whispered, her eyes darting from the teacher to me.

I couldn't help the blush that crept onto my cheeks.

Ashton Stanford with the very hot, and very unavailable, quarterback. Every girl had fallen for him at least once. A little thing that Mary Laraine had once dubbed: Stanford Appeal Syndrome. She concluded that since he was so appealing to everyone, and that he shifted to fit everyones social needs, that it was only reasonable that our young, teen-aged hormones would go into overdrive.

I, unfortunately, was apart of the SAP.

Ashton was just so socialized. He was so adaptable to everything around him. He kind of reminded me of a Chameleon. The ability to change everything about yourself just to fit in with people. It was such an amazing trait to have. He could literally be apart of any social cliques. He didn't take advantage of that, nor did he flaunt his popularity of everyone.

He was just there.

I admired that about him.

He never took advantage of the girls' that throw themselves at him- he was reserved, and comforted them when they broke up. I'm not saying that he is a 'good guy' to everyone, but he does seem like the 'John Tucker' type of guy. Only a little less of an ass. Just in the hormone driven teen-ager and the popularity.

Of course, I always felt that I was kind of into the 'John Tucker's little brother' type.

"No." I admitted, shrugging nonchalantly.

Kimberly-Anne smiled, "well. You do now."

"You can't just invite someone to a party. 'Sides. If he wanted me to go, he would have asked."

Kimberly-Anne laughed. "He's a guy. They don't invite girl's they like- they have someone else do it."

I felt my heart jump. "Sure, sure. What's gonna happen at the party?".

She went quite for a moment. "You have to say you'll go first."

I was a bit skeptical, but this was Kimberly-Anne I was referring to. She would never do anything that might cause harm to me. I gulped, nodding nervously. "Sure. Sure. I'll go."

She grinned. "V, Weed, Speed, and Beer."

Suddenly, the 'nervous feeling' hit me like a ton of bricks. Unfortunately, I had already said yes, and she was already text-ing whom I could only assume was Ashton.

What had I agreed to?


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: **So, this is chapter two. I finished it while trying to learn different foods in Swedish. Apparently, I still have to learn a completely new dialect for school. Oh, joy. Well, tell me what you think!

**Enamored**

**Chapter Two**

Everything was all too hot. The burning ache was more stronger than that of thirst- eloping the ancient Vampire in a deadly blanket of death. Blue flames that were hotter, and more painful than anything he had felt in all his life, slowly traveled up his arm. He could smell the rotting decay of burning flesh fill his senses. It was hard not to breath.

Although highly agonizing, this would surely make up for all the lives that he had taken. Sacrificing his life for all the lives he had taken. It was a fair exchange, he reasoned. Even if those who he had killed would never be able to fully rest in peace, he hoped some how that they would rest with the sense of freedom knowing in some way that the monster who took their lives had taken his own.

It was His redemption for their salvation.

Godric could feel himself slipping into a state of unconsciousness that felt as if he were resting until dusk. Everything was a bright flame before the edges of darkness slowly seeped through. Godric felt light; too light. It were as if he was floating on clouds.

He never thought that his death would be peaceful.

It was a strange thing, his death was. It were almost as if he were merely sleeping.

_**_

I spent the rest of my morning chewing on the inside of my cheek. It wasn't as if I never had a joint or two with Malachi Curtis. He was a 'punk' as the parents' called him. Malachi was an anarchist who thought the world a wasteland and that people spent their entire lives trying to amount to something when they only died in the end, and their self-filled legacy went along with them. Aside from the ounce of marijuana, and the occasional drink with Malachi, I never really did anything else.

The prospect of being with other people whom I did not know as I let my mind go into a completely unresponsive and very incoherent state almost caused me to hyperventilate. Logically, I should have just asked what I was going to agree to before I did so. Yet, my little string of tightly wound trust for Kimberly-Anne made me think illogically and just agree.

Stressing over this was making me lose all sense of concentration. Of course, second period math was merely twenty five minutes from lunch, it was beginning to feel unbearably long. I finished my work earlier and I was now left with nothing else to do except sit and wait.

"Hello." Ansley greeted, walking back from Student Guilds.

Sighing in relief, I gave Ansley a big smile. "Hey, Ansley."

His normally black hair was dyed a reddish brown color, framing his round face. The color suited him and his eyes. His eyes were a light brown, which went perfectly well with the new color. Ansley's outfit, on the other had, was a little bit more eccentric. Light green skinny jeans with a purple Pokemon shirt, and orange sneakers. It may not have matched his hair, but it definitely matched his personality.

Ansley Haywood was always eccentric and often called hyper-active. The teachers even thought he had ADHD, which was partly true. He was just too excited about everything and he had hard times focusing. Other than that, and his wild personality, he was a very smart person. Almost as smart as Malachi Curtis, who was merely an underachiever.

"Heard your goin' to Mr. I-Is-A-Stud Stanford." Ansley inquired, raising his eyes brown comically.

I shrugged my left shoulder. "Yeah. Kind of."

Ansley snapped his fingers, seemingly unaware of our math teacher sending him a glare. "Oh, hell no."

"Why not?", I questioned.

Had he heard about the highly illegal and very dangerous drug that was going to be there? Ansley was always against cruelty towards Vampires. He preferred that everyone lived together in harmony. Whist, everyone else was being narcissistic and judgmental about the topic.

It was getting so bad that if you were just a little pale, they assumed that you were dead.

"Hello. We have a study date for exams!", he exclaimed, as if I had just forgotten that the world was going to end soon.

Although, I did forget about that. In fact, I completely forgot about that. Of course, this would give me the perfect opportunity to just dip out of the party and save myself the addiction that would ultimately lead to death. I knew that I should probably tell Kimberly-Anne, but part of me highly doubted that she would listen to me.

"I forgot." I confessed.

He sighed melodramatically as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What am I going to do with you, Aubrey?".

I rolled my eyes at his antics.

"Yes. What _are _we going to do?".

My eye's shifted over to Mr. Locke, the math teacher. He was glaring down at Ansley and I. Swallowing harshly, I turned down to my work. I knew I was going to get in so much trouble.

Clearing his throat, he begun to speak. "I'm giving you a warning Miss. Hewitt. One more time that you get in trouble, and I will see to it that you have a sever punishment."

_Ding, ding, ding._

The bell rang, saving me from any other 'creative' punishments that he could have come up with. I gathered my books away quickly. I really did not want to hear the extra community work that he would have had in store for me. Nor did I want to miss lunch with Malachi, Ansley, and Mary.

**

"Whoa, V!?", Malachi exclaimed, throwing the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

I sat down beside Malachi, ignoring the horrible stench of smoke and clone. Malachi didn't usually smoke on school grounds- he only did it when there was something bothering him. Today, I was guessing that it was his father, who just recently went to jail. I shifted closer to Malachi, taking his calloused hand in mine.

Malachi looked like those trouble making skater kids you saw in the park either smoking or riding. His hair was long, reaching just below his jaw line. It was also a dirty blond color, and currently covered by a black and white stripped hat with a skull on the corner. His eyes were a deep green that beat mine in the beautiful scale by a long shot. Malachi wasn't too muscular- although, he wasn't that small either.

His style looked highly comfortable. Baggy jeans that hug near his knee caps, a plain, long-sleeved with shirt with a red checkered dress shirt with all the buttons undone over it. He had the the similar worn out shoes as I did. Except his were black with red checkers. Malachi also had the left side of his lip pierced, and his right eye brow.

Malachi's hand squeezed mine. His calloused fingers were probably caused by all the mechanic work he did on his car and his self-guitar lessons. He was a phenomenal guitarist and drummer. He was also a damn good mechanic.

Ansley made a suggestive noise in the back of his throat, his eyes locked on Malachi's and my own conjoined hand. Mary rolled her eyes behind her glasses. She slapped his arm hard before turning back to her neurologist book on human interactions. Ansley whimpered slightly.

"_Ouch_, Mary."

Mary looked up, "what?".

Ansley started bickering with her, only to be completely ignored as she continued to read about how people live in social environments. Mary was tiny for her age. Only five-foot-four. Her long black hair was usually pulled into a tie, but today it was down. Leaving little waves of black framing her face. She was oddly pale, light than me even. Her electric blue eyes clashed all too well with her complexion.

Mary, unlike Malachi or myself, grew up in a strict, catholic home. She would often only wear dressy skirts or sun dresses. She was not as laid back as the rest of us were. Although she was brought up Catholic, Mary wasn't religious.

"I think that you shouldn't go." She said simply.

I shook my head slightly. "I'm not. I just need a way to tell Kimberly."

Malachi lit up another cigarette. "Tell her your not going 'cause Malachi said you couldn't."

I cast a glance at him. "Oh? And why not?".

He held the cigarette with his index finger and middle finger. "V can get you hunted and killed by Vampires."

Ansley's eyes squinted in confusion. "How do you know?".

Malachi sniffed, "my friend knew a person who use to deal V. Hell, he use to deal a whole lot ta' shit. One day, he went missing. When he came back, John said he wasn't the same."

"Who is he?", Mary asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Lafayette. Dunno his last name. But I'm never takin' V. Neither are you." Malachi warned, poking me in the ribs.

I was in some way glade that I had Malachi, Mary, and Ansley as my friends. Of course, I missed Kimberly-Anne. Well, the old Kimberly-Anne. The one that would always glare at Malachi every time he lit up a cigarette. It was strange that she would start doing the things that she was against.

I gripped Malachi's hand tighter.

"Wanna go for a walk?", Malachi asked, throwing down the last cigarette that he would have today."

I nodded, "sure."

I stood up with Ansley, Malachi and Mary following soon after.

Malachi rubbed the back of his neck lazily. "I thought that me and Aubrey could go alone."

Ansley walked a few paces ahead of us. "Too bad."

I chuckled quietly, "doesn't matter. We all have to go to the same presentation anyways."

Malachi nodded, "sure, sure."

Ansley stepped into pace with us, elbowing my side.

The look in his eye meant that he was up to something. I was sure that it was going to get me in trouble. Trouble which I really didn't need now. Malachi took my hand once again, giving me a soft smile. I blushed and look away. Malachi wasn't usually this 'touchy-feel-y' with me, in fact we hardly ever talked like this. It was new, and to be honest, I think I like old better than new.

**

A/N: Its sort of short, and I believe it might just be the shortest one yet. I had to finish up my paper- which I wrote in Norwegian as appose to Swedish. Although, the most of the translations sound the same. Enough with my dull life, now. Chapter Three will be posted soon!


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: **Sorry for not updating this chapter sooner. The Holiday's are here, and we might go to Kolding, Denmark! So, I wanted to extend an early seasons greetings with this chapter and my best wishes for a happy holiday. I promise that another chapter, much longer than this, will be coming out before we leave for Denmark. Please enjoy!

**Enamored **

**Chapter Three**

A few minutes until the warning bell rang, Malachi had to go to his detention for promoting Anarchy and Arson to the school. That left me with Ansley, who had a very big smirk, and Mary. We wandered near the park for a minute. As beautiful the sight was, humidity was already making Mary's hair curl at the ends. We decided to go and chill at the Library. Assuming it was empty- which it probably was.

I didn't see Kimberly at all during lunch. It unnerved me; she usually always joined us. Although, she didn't really like Malachi that much; the feeling was vice versa. Kimberly thought that he was completely immature and that anarchy was just his way of trying to look cool. That accusation was totally off. Malachi _lived _chaos. Strange as it was, I could agree with his logic. The Government held power; with power came greed; with greed came poverty; and with poverty came suffering.

I wasn't a full-blown anarchist, though. I enjoyed his little rants when he was high. It was quite humorous, considering that I was sober- and I usually was. Of course, I never really could explain why Malachi and I suddenly became closer together without the hardcore influence of a drug binding us. The good thing about that was, I could trust him. Malachi wouldn't do _anything _to hurt me. His over-protectiveness and caring had shown when he refused to let me go to Ashton's party.

Speaking of which, I still didn't know how to break it to Kimberly.

"Well, this is quiet." Ansley's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

Mary rolled her eyes. "We're in the _library_, Ansley. Naturally it will be _quiet_."

Ansley stuck his tongue out at her childishly when she turned around to find an empty table. "Blah, blah, _blah_."

I grinned at their antics. Mary and Ansley have sort of had feelings for each other for along time. Although he was gay, he once said that Mary was something else. It may not be physical attraction which Mary may had been hoping for, but there was definitely some sort of feeling there.

I turned back to the table Mary had chosen. It was dark green and circular. Just like every other table here. Sighing, I realized that we were not the only people who came here. I dropped my bag down on the table top before sitting down.

Ansley looked over, grinning. "So. Holding hands? 'Malachi said you couldn't'. 'I thought that we could go alone'." He mocked.

I rolled my eyes. "We were just hanging out- no big deal."

"Mmhm. I see the way Mr. Curtis stares at ya, Aubrey. Boy is got it _bad_."

Coming from Ansley, I almost _had _to believe it. He was an expert in the feelings of men. "He has a girlfriend. Plus, Malachi usually goes for what he wants. We barely ever do anything, aside from today."

"I thought you were smoking buddies." Ansley retorted, his lips curving into a smug smirk.

I wrinkled my nose. "Ew. I don't smoke cancer sticks."

"I _know _what you smoke. Ohh, ohh. _Aubrey..._!", Ansley teased, ignoring the glares being shot in his direction.

"This is a library, Ansley." Mary said, as if she were scolding a small child. "_Shut up_."

I couldn't hold the giggle that came out of my mouth. "Well said."

Mary gave a shy smile. "Thanks."

Ansley slapped his hand over his chest. "Your teaming up on me!?".

I rolled my eyes once again, this time choosing to ignore Ansley. I pulled out my third period Science book, cramming last minute Exam information. After science, there was only one more period to go until the end of the day. The warning bell sounded, reminding everyone that there was only five minutes to class.

Shoving all of my things in my bag, I said goodbye to Mary quickly as she left. Ansley departed after her. I gripped my bag as I, too, departed from the library.

**

Thankfully, Kimberly-Anne was in my science class with me. We didn't sit next to each other, though. The teacher placed us in our seats. I did sit next to Ashton Stanford. Even if I didn't officially know him, I could easily have a conversation with him. Today, that conversation would be the cancellation of me going to his party.

I highly doubted that he would be disappointed if I didn't attend. He had the whole school practically going to his father's beach house. So, one less person shouldn't be anything to really worry about. I tried to calm my guilt when he turns to smile at me.

Maybe I could just go and not do anything.

"Hey. Heard you were finally going to one of my parties." His smooth voice drifts over to me.

I frown. What did he mean by '_finally_.' I was never once invited to his party. I shook my head slowly. "Yeah."

"That's great! Its going to be so much fun." He encourages, smiling.

Exactly what is fun to him? Taking drugs and deceiving everyone, including teachers', into thinking that he is the perfect little role model? Shaking off those thought, and as sad as it is, I cannot seem to really dislike him for that, I try to word what I really want to tell him.

I glanced at him once again, watching him write a note to one of his friends. I turned my gaze to the teacher who sat completely oblivious to the exchange. Looking away, I shook my head. I opened my note book, not really believing how dense a teacher could really be.

I quickly scribbled a note to Kimberly.

_**Kimberly, I don't think I can go to the party -Aubrey**_

I tossed the note over to her, grimacing as it landed next to her foot. _C'mon, Kim. Look down. _I thought desperately. A person who sat near Kimberly whispered something to her. This caused her to look down and find my note.

_Yes!_

She picked it up, reading it over. She turned around, shooting me a look before turning back to desk. I waiting as she scribbled something down quickly. Without looking at me, she passed the note to a girl who sat next to her. The girl, who was a close to me, passed the note over.

_OMG! You cannot do this to me, Brey' . You need to go!- Kim._

I sighed softly.

This was going to be a lot harder then I had originally expected it to be. I flipped the note over and wrote something back to her.

_**Malachi Curtis and I have to finish up a project for English. Sorry, we have no time.**_

I knew that this probably wasn't the best way to break it to her, but with Exams and ISUs coming up, she wouldn't question it.

Well, I hoped she wouldn't question it.

**

Third was very slow, and I wasn't sure if it was because of the guilt I felt for leaving Kimberly-Anne alone. Either way, it was torture. I knew she was mad at me; she thought I was just leaving her alone. Drugs which could ensue death kept me far away. V was on the top of my list of drugs that I would never try. In fact, Marijuana was the only drug I really took. Even then, it was solely for the purpose of feeling good, feeling light.

I tapped my pencil on my notebook, giving up studying temporarily so I could collect my thoughts. June was such an annoying month. I preferred October or December. Fall and Winter were my favorites- simply because it was slow. Just developing into the school year. It wasn't as nerve-wracking as September, and not as stressful as June.

June was the month which Exams would be announced. Stressful, last minute studying left everyone verging a nervous-breakdown. To add to that, Graduation was coming and the dreadful plague of questions resulting in a career path. "_To go to Collage, or not to go to Collage. That is the question_". Grade twelve was so... exhausting. I still had to decide if I wanted to go to Collage the following summer or wait until I'm nineteen to begin. Graduating at seventeen was never fun.

To add to my stress, I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. Nothing jumped out at me. I have considered Medical Doctor, Psychiatrist, Teacher, architect, but nothing surged to the surface. Could my future be so undecided that I end up doing absolutely nothing at all? Would I ever amount to anything life-changing for someone?

I shook my head.

I stopped studying so I could grasp my thoughts, and try to be in a state of halcyon. Instead, I was warped into a state of vexation. I had so much things to worry about- so much planning for my future to do. It vexed me. I should have stopped being a simple 'drifter', as people would put it, and focused on my plans. I could have had everything figured out right now- only needing the acceptance letter from a Collage which offered the classes for my profession.

The bell rang, snapping me out of my melancholy thoughts. I quickly gathered my things up trying to catch up with Kimberly-Anne. I needed to sort things out with her; she had to know that she was going to get herself killed. Slowly, the worry crept up on me; another thought getting cased inside my overly-active mind.

I walked out of the classroom, and to my disappointment, Kimberly was already gone to her next class. I sighed in resentment, as I walked to my English class.

**A/N: **Not very interesting, but... I'm pretty busy. Any who, please enjoy the winter season. The next chapter will be out soon. So, have a happy Holiday!

God Jul! [Merry Christmas]

-Olley


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: **Hej! Believe it or not, that is also how you say 'hello' in Danish. My father picked my up a copy of 'The Danish Language for Dummies: Dictionary Translator' before we leave. He was cracking up before he gave me the book. -.- Charming, Pappa. Charming.

Any who, as promised, this is the chapter before the Holidays. Long, but not the longest [future-wise]. Special post-Holiday treat! Although, just wait until after the Holiday [maybe Christmas day], you'll get an even _better_treat. I am bring my laptop with me, that is if we would have reception in Denmark. -Sigh-. Oh, well. The Holidays in DENMARK! Can't wait!

Glædelig jul [Merry Christmas in Danish; according to the _book_].

**Enamored **

**Chapter Four**

English passed in a blur.

I really wasn't in the mood to pay attention to the mindless, postgraduate chit-chat. Everyone was either talking about a future plan, a Collage, or just the graduation in general. It was utterly embarrassing to be the only on who didn't have a plan for anything. Places like Yale and Princeton were very captivating in there own way. Yet, I didn't have the intellect, money, nor the time to actually apply. I was leaning toward a simple Community Collage not to far from my house.

My career choice would have to wait until something spiked on my 'what-do-you-want-to-do?' list for next week. Unfortunately, it was a rather empty list. Maybe I didn't exactly have a future. What if I was just going to become another homeless person? Or a junkie. Who knows, I might even have to sell myself just to get out of the gutter.

I dropped my head onto my hands, ignoring the sharp sting of my pen pressing tightly against my temple. My future was so... unknown. Very unplanned. I hated not knowing what would become of me when I finally left high school. Unlike everyone else, I _liked_ school. It distracted me from everything- it gave me something to do.

I sighed lightly.

If my estimations were nearly correct, we would only have about ten minutes left until the bell rang. Homework, projects, and studying. Although, I was mainly concerned with studying rather then the others things on my list to stuff to do. Homework, I didn't need to finish- exams started tomorrow morning at nine. Projects could wait until after school; they were only forty-seven percent of my final mark. Exams were a huge chunk that surpassed attendance, participation, and work completion.

Given, out of everything, I would have much rather just had projects to complete. I didn't like seat-work very much. Or studying for that matter. Both were essential for an education, though.

"Hey, you okay?"; a hand, seemingly heavy as iron, was placed on my shoulder.

I shrugged softly, pulling my head up off my arms forcefully. "Perfect."

Malachi smirked. "Right, right."

I shook my head, "I am."

"Sure, sure."

I scoffed quietly, turning my attention to the teacher in front of the too warm class room. She was talking about the English exam, which would be on Friday.

"Uh, there is a circus in town tonight and the rest of the week. You wanna go?", Malachi asked, his finger tapping to an unknown beat.

A circus?; "sure." I hadn't been to one since I was three.

Malachi nodded, "meet you at six? That old creek sound good?"

"Of course it does. That's where everyone meets." I smiled.

I put my head in my hand, trying to ignore the thudding of my own heart. I couldn't understand what the teacher was saying; Malachi's voice, soft like silk, and rough like sandpaper cutting through the logic thoughts of getting my education. It was a minor feeling of ambivalence. I knew it would pass when I thought it through.

Hopefully, it would pass soon.

**x.x**

To fully understand the extent of grieving, we could over come _anything_.

Isabel was not taking the passing of her Sheriff lightly- no one was. But to her, who had been with Godric for over three hundred years, it was a true tragedy. Something that 'time' would never heal. A pain that would not be numbed by cheap ice cream and terrible movies. This agony was carving her own heart out of her dead chest.

Who said the dead can't feel?

Intense sobs of utter agony ripped through her chest as reality decided to make an unwanted appearance. Isabel clawed at her chest, ripping her skin in small, thin tears that would surely heal when she finally let sleep over come her. But it wouldn't. No matter how hard she tried to block everything out- tried to rest for a moment; the pain would surface.

Godric had been her life, her reason for still living. Without him, she was a bitter shell with nothing left. He was her only friend; the only person who cared enough to help her when she needed it.

The lush, oak wood casket was beginning to make her feel claustrophobic as she turned, trying to get comfortable. Silk didn't have the best feeling when blood was smeared all over it. Tarnishing the soft material with patches of sticky, wet substance.

Isabel gave up trying to get 'comfortable'. Sleep just wouldn't over come her.

_How am I suppose to do it?_, She asked herself quietly.

Godric was the one who took care of the essential things; Isabel just followed his orders. She never had to make tough decision since she aliened with Godric. He made the decisions- saving Isabel from the stress. He knew how to deal with people without using violence- as did she, but he never raised his voice.

Isabel knew that Godric was a much better Sheriff than she ever would be. Trying to keep order in Dallas was going to be hell. She still wasn't grasping the fact that Godric wasn't ever going to come back again. Praying and hoping that he was going to tap on her casket and tell her to keep it down- or ask her what is the matter.

Godric always cared about her. He understood her love for the human she was with.

Godric helped Isabel in so many ways, and now he was gone.

He saved her life, and she wasn't even there to save his.

A feeling of utter wretchedness passed over her. How could she have just _let _him die? Willingly allow him to throw his life away? She could have done _something _to prevent it. But she didn't. Like a scared little human, she shied away. Chose to ignore it when she could have helped in with what ever he needed.

Isabel clawed at her chest once again. A new type of heartache settling into her cold, dead heart.

_Guilt. _

_Disgust._

_Self-hate._

Doing something would have been so much better than just hiding from everything. How could she be so unbelievably selfish in her own need exclude herself from further heartache? That human, who just met Godric, stood on the roof with him, where as she locked herself away inside the washroom.

An large feeling of self-hate settled over her. Wrapping her in a tight cocoon of denial and hate as her heart-wrenching sobs continued.

**.x.x.**

The indecision of my future was nagging me in the back of my mind all through class. I tried ignoring it, only to be hit with another issue. I realized, with a deep frown that made my cheeks hurt, I had a great deal of issues that needed to be sorted out quickly.

I tapped my pencil over my notebook; creating little lead nicks all over my homework page. I tried to reason out the best solution to my problems, only getting one answer which I would have rather avoided- dealing with them. I had wanted to get them done as quickly as possible; but one could not solve anything without thinking about it.

The bell chimed, signaling the end of the day. The squealing of chair scraping across the floor was another reminder that it was time to leave. I gathered my books quickly, before the rush of students could fill the hallways.

"Aubrey." Malachi called, jogging up to catch me.

I smiled warmly, "hey, Curtis. What's up?"; usually, he walked the other way.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You takin' the bus?", Malachi inquired.

I nodded, "same as every day."

Malachi shoved his hands in his pockets. "Uh, right. Want me to walk you?".

I slowed to a less-rushed pace. Malachi never asked to accompany me to my bus stop before. He, of course, was on my route; he never stuck around the actually_ need_ the ride, though.

I answered with a small nod of my head.

I had too many things to deal with than to ponder on Malachi- that was a completely separate thought process on itself, anyways.

I opened the door of the school, letting the hot Dallas sun shine on me as I ventured over to my stop. Malachi, whom I thought either wandered away, was still behind me. I guess he needed the ride today. That or he intended to walk me all the way to the bus. I picked the latter, and quickly got on the bus.

"Wanna sit with me?", I heard Malachi ask from behind me.

I shrugged noncommittally. "Sure."

Even though I had made it a point not to think about how Malachi was acting, I really couldn't help myself. I didn't have a strong friendship with him; but we got along. It was sort of weird having him want to walk with me, and sit next to me. It was even stranger when I held his hand, and accepted his odd moves.

It would have been rude to decline; I was taut with manners when I was growing up in the orphanage; just the sudden interest in wanting to be my friend was giving me a mental whiplash. We were 'smoking-buddies'. That was it- so, why was saying 'no' to him something I didn't think I could do?

I knew, of course, that our acquaintance was a very terrible one. Smoking an illegal drug- defiantly not the type of story one would want to tell their parents when they had a sleep-over. I was somehow hoping we could have been friend, real friends. Instead of the person that we hung around when we felt like doing something bad. It _was _a highly unattractive thing to do; but I wasn't really thinking 'long-term' when Malachi asked me if I wanted to smoke a 'joint' with him.

I scrunched up my nose in disgust.

Why did I ever agree to something to nasty before?

Oh, Malachi was handsome and I wanted to demolish the curiosity of trying a drug.

"Hey... you still goin' to Ashton's party?", Malachi asked, malice clearly noticeable in his normal mellow voice.

Honestly, the simple fact that _Ashton Stanford_ wanted _me_to go to his party was still enough to make me grin until my jaws were sore. Than again, who wouldn't? Ashton was gorgeous. Which was another reason I wasn't going. "No." It was too good to be true.

Malachi exhaled, "right."

"I'm not!", I protested, an edge creeping into my voice.

Malachi smirked, "sure. Sure."

I groaned in frustration- I wasn't one to actually engage in an argument until I saw fitting. "What_ever_, Malachi Jakob Curtis."

"Sure, Aubrey _Bella _Hewitt." Malachi retorted.

I huffed, turning away from him.

Needless to say, the ride home was _highly _entertaining.

**.x.x.**

Sara-Mae was still at work when I got home.

Although the silence was rather peaceful, I still had to figure out what I was going to do until seven PM. Currently, it was three. Sara-Mae usually returned home at seven-thirty.

Groaning softly, I preoccupied myself with little things that needed to be done. I had tired cleaning the house first; it wasn't all that messy to begin with. I did the laundry (folded and neatly placed back in the shelf or closet). I fixed some dinner (a really cheaply made version of a Italian pasta). I cleaned my room, followed by Sara-Mae's. I than gave up and cleaned _every_ room in the house.

One the cleaning was done, I even had taken some time to study for two hours. That only left two hours to go and a migraine. I now knew most of what would be on the exam, plus some.

When I was fumbling around for a Tylenol, I began thinking about becoming a Doctor so I wouldn't need to worry about headaches. That only opened the flimsy made gate that stopped my unorganized plans for my not-so-distant future.

Everything that I busied myself with, I would immediately think of having a career in that placement. Making dinner- chef. Cleaning- nanny. Pain relief- Doctor. Studying- teacher.

And I even thought of becoming a professional organizer.

Ansley called a short minute after that thought, breaking me away from my musing.

Unfortunately, I didn't really fell like listening to him go on-and-on about his boyfriend, or a person he fancied. I really didn't want to hear him bring up the uncharted territory of Malachi Curtis.

"...He said that Brenton _was _**checking him _out_**._ I _thought that it was _hilarious_! He insisted that he wasn't. Which, honestly, was a complete **lie**. Ugh, boys. So immature. Any-who's. I was thinking about when my mum smokes, when Malachi _freaking _Curtis popped into my head out of **nowhere**. Major freakishness, right there. Speaking of that fine little darling, what's up between you two?..."

I endured his rants about Malachi and I (not that I could get a word in anyway). He was so enthused about the prospect of me having a relationship, that his 'troublesome life' was soon forgotten and I was the placement for that. He kept talked about how he knew I had a thing for Malachi- which, in truth was completely ludicrous in every sense of the word.

Malachi was a friend.

I sat quietly, throwing in a 'ohh', 'yeah', 'uh-huh', or a 'no!' whenever needed.

When the clock chimed eight o'clock, Sara-Mae pulled up.

I ended my conversation with Ansley, promising him all details on Malachi and I.

"Wow! This house is so clean," she gushed, walking into the kitchen.

Sara-Mae was the only one who benefited from my 'distractions'. She was happily content with the knowledge that she didn't have to make dinner or clean the house tomorrow.

She dug in quickly and I silently followed. "How was school."

"Fine." My answer was too bland.

I never liked that particular question. It reminded me of a cheap fifties commerical about a family trying to sell butter. I remember watching it when I was a little girl living with my grandparents.

"_How was school today, Billy_?", the trophy-wife would ask, holding up a block of butter.

She would than smile at the cookie-cutter boy before her, who was also grabbing butter. They would talk about their day before starting admiringly at each other.

To me, that question was too family intimate.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Sara-Mae. She was the perfect motherly figure I ever had. Just, talking about things felt like staying at an aunts house whom I've never met before. It was also simply my mourning and resentment of the fact that my mother _would _never be able to ask me that question. Even if she was grinning at a camera while holding a block of butter.

Sara-Mae pressed the question as I got up to clear my plate. "'Fine'. That's it?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Its high school. Stress on top of stress."

Sara-Mae could never, no matter how trivial, let anything go. Stress would often direct her to try and make every thing comfortable. I knew it was selfish; but I was a cowered who could not face anything alone. I would run at the sight of danger.

"You going to study?"

The dull ache became noticeable. "No."

I cleaned up the kitchen quickly before I took a long shower. I didn't feel like doing much tonight, and settled for an early bed.

The questions of my future started running through my mind when I said a quick 'goodnight'.

When my head hit the pillow, five minutes later, worries were gone and replaced with wonderful dreams.

**A/N: **Merry, merry, merry Christmas! Gosh, I love this holiday. =]

I wanted to tell everyone to have a very wonderful holiday, and have fun. I really appreciate everyone who reads and/or reviews my story. I really couldn't ask for anything more than to know you actually _like _mt atrocious writing and terrible update speed. I promise, though, I will write so many chapters in Denmark and post them up.

Glædelig jul.

"This is the message of Christmas: We are never alone."  
~ Taylor Caldwell (1900-1985), English novelist.

"Remember, if Christmas isn't found in your heart, you won't find it under a tree."  
_~ Charlotte Carpenter_

_Happy Holiday_

_-Olley_


End file.
